


Time

by dementedsymphony



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 31 Day Writing Challenge, Dean is Bad at Feelings, Destiel - Freeform, Destiel Nanowrimo, Look at me trying to write, M/M, October Prompt Challenge, Seperation, unrequited love (or is it?)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-08 11:30:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12253539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dementedsymphony/pseuds/dementedsymphony
Summary: Dean thought he had all the time in the world until he didn't.Prompt word: Swift





	Time

**Author's Note:**

> All mistakes are my own. Still getting used to writing Destiel so there may be some OOC.

His pulse is racing. He keeps looking at the clock on the dashboard. 10:56 a.m. He isn’t going to make it. He pushes his foot down on the gas as far as it will go. Weaving in between cars and praying that he doesn’t pass a cop. If he gets pulled over, it will all be for nothing. He doesn’t have the time. Not now.

He had twelve years. Twelve full years to come to the realization that came to him the night before. He couldn’t let him leave before he knew. Yeah he could have texted or told him over Skype. That’s how they agreed to stay in touch. Both had a feeling that it was just their friendship taking it’s dying breath, but neither one wanted to admit it. Ignorance is bliss they say. 

“I got into La Carrosse. It’s one of the top art schools in France.” Dean’s stomach twisted into knots. He forced a smile onto his face, he was being left behind. 

“Knew you could do it. You’re too talented for this small hick town. When do you leave?”

Cas kept his hands busy pulling the label from his bottle of beer. He didn’t care for the taste but knew that his friend preferred not to drink alone. He watched as Dean took a long pull from his bottle, then got up heading to the kitchen. He returned with two more beers even though he knew Cas was still working on his.

“Guess we’ll have to make the most of the summer then. I’ll still have to work but the rest of the time,” Dean snaps his fingers, “we should go on a road trip! Just you, me, Baby and the open road. It will be awesome.” It’s then that Castiel seems to fuck his whole world up.

“I’m leaving the night after graduation.” He notices that even though Dean has the bottle to his lips, he isn’t drinking. He watches as his friend’s shoulders slump as he leans back into the chair he’s on. Dean shakes his head in disbelief.

“Just can’t get out of here fast enough, can you?” 

“Dean?!”

“No, no I get it man really I do. We’ll skype or some shit like that."

11:20 a.m, it feels like the clock is mocking him. Both he and Cas should be walking onto the stage, receiving their diplomas. Instead Cas decided to take an earlier flight. They will mail his diploma to him, his mother had informed him. She never liked him anyways. Thanks to his sister he knew that his flight departed at noon. That night he told Dean that he was leaving was the last time that he spoke to his friend. He figured a clean break was best. He never claimed to be smart. That was Cas’s job. 

“I can’t believe that you’re just going to let him go.” Dean dropped his fork onto his plate, picked it up and walked to the sink. 

“I can’t force him to stay. Besides what’s better than Paris?” Sam scoffed.

“You can tell him that you love him. Been in love with him for a long time. You can ask him to stay.” For a second Sam knew that he was considering it. 

“I can’t do that Sammy. What’s that saying? When you love something set it free? I want him to be happy. Even if it’s not with me.”

“Then at least tell him goodbye.”

11:50 a.m. and he had just pulled into the parking lot. He didn’t even stop to lock his baby up. Being an international Dean hoped that the checking of bags and passports might buy him some time. Cas’s brother texted him the gate information. He didn’t have much time. He ran as fast as he could. Knocking into people and a constant stream of ‘excuse me, and sorry’. He heard the final boarding call. He was almost there. He can make it.

12:12 p.m. He watched as the plane began to move, working up the speed to take flight. He sat in the seat nearest to him and rubbed his hand down his face. He felt the sting of tears and fought to keep from crying. It’s over. He’s ever going to see Cas again. Never going to be able to hear him laugh, lecture him on the importance of bees, never tell him that he……

”Hello, Dean.”


End file.
